


#Richard2

by cheshireArcher



Category: Richard II - Shakespeare
Genre: Chicago, Gen, Modern AU, Political AU, Social Media, Sort Of, come on we all know Richard would be a master of social media and Bolingbroke would hate it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireArcher/pseuds/cheshireArcher
Summary: Richard has just resigned. Bolingbroke is now mayor of Chicago. And so it begins.





	#Richard2

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/gifts).



> I hope you like this! The prompt was for a modern-ish political AU of Richard II or Henry IV. After scrapping too many ideas, I settled on this one. This is way different I think from what I usually write, but it was fun!

_BORDEAUX QUITS – BOLINGBROKE MAYOR_

_Richard Bordeaux resigned from office as Mayor of Chicago Sunday. Vice-Mayor Henry Bolingbroke, Sr. has succeeded him. This comes as just the latest in the ongoing drama of the city’s government, which began earlier this year with the death of Councilman Gloucester and a suspected government-led coverup._

_Bordeaux, 33, officially resigned during an address from City Hall that was broadcast live by WGN and livestreamed via the mayor’s own phone. In his message, the former mayor blasted his former political allies and lamented the burdens of office. He then personally addressed his successor, Bolingbroke, wishing him well in what many have called “a passive-aggressive manner.” Bolingbroke made few comments himself and has not as of yet answered any interview requests from the media._

 

* * *

 

 

            “’Passive-aggressive.’ That’s one way of putting it,” Councilman Percy said, pouring himself a cup of coffee after reading the news on his phone.

            Mayor Bolingbroke wasn’t listening. “Is this _glitter_?” He asked, emptying the contents of a desk drawer. First thing on the agenda was cleaning out Richard’s office, which involved sorting out the papers Richard had never looked at, putting useful things like pens in the drawers, and removing whatever garbage the former mayor had left behind—oh god, he _really_ hoped that squarish foil packet he found wasn’t what he thought it was. Everything about this office made him hate Richard more—the art, the sophisticated furniture, the stench of his fancy cologne, the mere thought of him having breathed this air.

            “Did Richard say anything to you before yesterday?”

            “No,” Bolingbroke replied, emptying dogfood from a bowl into the trash. Richard always had his prize greyhound, Mathe, with him, even in his office. “He kept dancing around it. God knows you wouldn’t have known what he was doing yesterday had he not said it. How did he put it again?”

            “’ _I resign the crown,’”_ Percy’s son said from where he’d been sitting in a corner of the office, scrolling through his phone. “It’s trending now, actually. #IResignTheCrown. Looks like it’s the new meme.”

            Bolingbroke squeezed the bridge of his nose. He knew that wherever Richard was at the moment, he was eating this up. Just what he needed to fuel his ego and self-righteousness. He knew Richard knew he would hate the social media explosion. As if the news outlets broadcasting the story weren’t bad enough.

            _Richard Bordeaux._

            He wasn’t a great mayor. He wasn’t even a particularly good one. In fact, he was probably going to be remembered as one of Chicago’s rather bad mayors. But he was fascinating. His good looks, aloof but annoyingly charming manner, love of social media and the high life had garnered him fame—what other mayor had a stylish Instagram and was an active trendsetter? And few knew him better than Henry Bolingbroke, his cousin and former friend.

            Part of him wished it hadn’t come to this. The other part believed firmly that Richard had gotten what had been coming to him. What other kind of person livestreams their own resignation?

            Bolingbroke was still trying to convince himself he’d done the right thing. He had come back to town just to take care of stuff after his father’s death, nothing else. He hadn’t wanted to get swept up in all of this, even though he was vice-mayor.

            “Uh, about hashtags, #ReinstateRichard is already trending.” Councilman Percy’s son, Harry, sounded a million miles away. The pounding in Bolingbroke’s head was beginning in earnest.

            “I don’t care,” Bolingbroke muttered, glancing at his phone. He’d just sent a text to his own son, the fifth today, demanding his whereabouts. Hal was supposed to be studying poli sci at Loyola but instead these days was partying on the Northside. Why he was surrounded by people who squandered their talents and didn’t do their jobs? Was it really that hard? First Richard, now Hal. He pocketed his phone and walked to the office window to look out over the city. _Thanks a lot for dumping this on me, Dick,_ he thought bitterly.

            _But you wanted it._

_What?_

_You thought that you could run it better than him, of course you did. And of course you can._

Bolingbroke tried to stop the inner monologue. It was going to drive him nuts. He was mayor of Chicago now and he was going to take control. After all, Richard _did_ step down, forfeiting all say in the matter. His stunt had backfired. The former mayor had been forced into a corner and he’d went out with style, but style didn’t keep you in office. Bolingbroke would show him—and he didn’t even have to be that petty.

            _#IResignTheCrown_. It was like some ad campaign.

            _#ReinstateRichard_. It may as well have been a call to reboot a TV series that had been canceled. Richard wasn’t coming back and no one could get him back in office. It didn’t work that way.

* * *

 

            Richard scrolled through his feed, reading his old tweets like they were perfect verse. The photos on his insta with the perfect filters, all the important things in Chicago life he’d been connected with as mayor, everything sat there on his phone as if nothing had happened.

            He reluctantly changed screennames to reflect he was no longer mayor. Soon no one would care about his updates. What did it matter anyway, fame was pretty hollow anyway—or at least that was what he’d been trying to tell himself. It wasn’t working. He was still Richard. This was all he had ever known—fame, popularity, getting whatever he wanted because he could. Now he was nothing and Bolingbroke ran the city.

            Was it worth it? He had to make it so. He knew it was coming, there was no avoiding surrendering the office. Not after the trouble he’d gotten himself into. So he had employed his usual theatrics and made sure his parting would be memorable to both the city and his successor.

            One last post.

       **RichardBordeaux:**

**That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.**

            He then tagged @BolingbrokeHenry.

            Perfect.


End file.
